BETTER HALVES
by Veritable Old Lady Crow
Summary: It wasn't easy but they refused to give up. They fought hard against everything and everyone trying to tear them apart...even when it was their own personal demons threatening their happiness. And when the dust settled, & all the tears were dried up Jackson and Tara Teller still had the ONE thing they'd always wanted...always NEEDED...they had each other. (AU) *Happy Ending*
1. ACTION MAN

**A/N: **When I **first** posted for the fanfic it was actually called "Action Man" but seeing as I decided to make it more than just a mere one-shot I changed the title of it. I don't think this will end up being a full length story since I don't know how interesting you guys would find reading about them without all the Club drama & angst. This is simply just my **fuck you **to how the show ended lol. I wanted a Happy Ending even though I **knew **it was meant to be a Shakespearean tragedy. Thank God for fanfiction, am I right?

**P.S: **Those that like this first one-shot should thank _Mrm204_. It was my **thank you **for being so awesome. Hope you enjoy.

ONE-SHOT: "**ACTION MAN"**

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><p>"<em>Pleaseee<em>, Mom?" Thomas begged.

Kneeling in front of her, Thomas Teller pressed the palms of his hands together, holding them over his mother's lap as if he were praying at an altar. "My grades are perfect. I got all B's and only one C….in _English. _And that's only because that _Jerk off _Mr. Pearson—"

"_Thomas!" _Tara scolded, narrowing her eyes at her fifteen year old son.

"_Fine. _It's only because that _old_ _fart—"_

"Thomas!" Tara shrieked again.

"Whaaat?" Thomas' green eyes widened. "It's not like Dad didn't call him something way worse!"

"He _did,_" the fourteen year old sitting on the couch next to Tara Teller agreed. "I heard him too, Mom."

Thomas looked over at him, beaming at the blonde-haired teenager who was too busy scribbling away in the sketch book in his lap to acknowledge his older brother's smile of appreciation.

"I don't care what you heard anyone say," Tara said looking back and forth between her two sons. "I want you to respect your teachers. _All _of them, you hear me?"

_"You better listen to your mother." _All three Tellers in the living room turned their heads towards the threshold leading into the kitchen. Jackson Teller's smile was every bit as wide as his two sons, mischief twinkling in the blues of his eyes as he added, "_Old Farts _deserve respect, too."

"DAD!" the sandy-blonde haired boy sitting next to his mother exclaimed, dropping the sketch book in his hand on the end table before running towards him. "I'm glad your back," he told him pulling him into hug. "Maybe _you _can convince mom to let us go! Tommy's doing a really _shitty_ job right now."

"_Nathaniel Teller!"_ Tara shrieked, glaring at her husband as he laughed along with his sons at her outrage.

"It's like you forgot how filthy _your_ mouth was when you were a teenager," Jax taunted, mushing his youngest sons forehead before walking past him into the living room.

Tara rolled her eyes. "This is why _your_ sons are so out of control," she complained as Jackson walked over towards her. "They're disrespectful and instead of correcting their behavior you laugh at it. It's not funny, Jackson."

Jax smirked. Sitting on the couch next to her, he pulled at her waist. After a moment of resisting him, with her arms folded across her chest, Tara finally gave in—allowing him to slide her onto his lap, intertwining her fingers with his as he wrapped his other arm around her waist.

"I missed you, babe," Jax told her, pressing his palm to her face as he pulled it towards his own, planting a kiss on her lips that would make sailor blush.

_"Gross,"_ Thomas grumbled, scrunching up his face as his father groped a handful of his mother's backside, making out with her as if they were the only two people in the living room. "You're hurting our eyes. Me and Nate are gonna need something _super awesome _to scrub such a scarring memory from our brains…._like PAC-RIM 3_."

Reluctantly, Tara broke the kiss, turning to cock an eyebrow at her oldest child. "_Is that so?"_

"Ohhhh_ boy_." Nathaniel let out a low whistle. "She just hit you with the _'Is that so?' _line."

Jackson chuckled, shaking his head at his son. "So you noticed that, too, huh?"

"Dead giveaway," Nathaniel answered, rubbing his palms together, his blue eyes brightening with amusement. "Go ahead, mom. Let him have it!"

"I'm still trying to get the image of _you_ and that fast ass little girl Kimberly Jamison in the backseat of my car out of _my_ head," Tara said, glaring at her son. "If I hadn't been on-call that night I would be rocking _two _babies to sleep! And if I wasn't in such a rush to get to the hospital I wouldn't even be talking to you right now. I'd have one less son. Emergency surgery saved your life you little skirt chasing asshole!"

"_Tara_," Jax reprimanded, even as he chuckled in her ear. "You can't be calling your kids assholes."

"You're right," Tara said, turning to glare at the man holding her. "_You're _the real asshole. I keep forgetting where they got it from."

"What's all this _they _stuff, Ma?" Nathaniel asked, pointing at his chest. "Tommy's the one hookin' up in your car. _I'm_ still in that stage where I think girls have cooties."

Nathaniel snorted, rolling his eyes. "Didn't look that way when Samantha was in your lap at the diner the other day. I guess you can't get cooties from shoving your tongue down my best friend's little sister's throat. You're the reason Cody's being such a dick—"

"_Thomas!"_

"You just called me an asshole!" Thomas argued. "Why can you say what—"

"Because _I'm grown_, I pay the bills, and I'm your mother so what I say goes," Tara told him before turning towards the man of the house. "_And_ I can say what I want. That's what _I _say. You got a problem with that, Teller?"

Jax shook his head, kissing her jaw. "No, M'am. _You're the boss_."

"There you go," Tara declared, waving a hand towards her husband. "Your dad says I'm the boss. Watch your mouth or I'll make you rinse it out with soap."

"Can I make a suggestion, Mrs. Teller?" Jackson asked, kissing the back of the hand she'd directed towards him. "I think you should let them go to this convention shit. Their grades were good, right?"

"It's not just a convention, Dad," Thomas corrected, all but drooling from the sides of his mouth as his father vouched for him and his brother. "It's fuckin Comic-con—_Sorry…._shit, I keep—I mean _shoot!_"

Both Nathaniel and his father laughed as the youngest dark-haired Teller in the room struggled to avoid using a curse word.

"And you wonder why I didn't believe you when you _swore_ you never called Mr. Pearson a limp-dick geezer," Tara commented, shaking her head as she finally gave up on suppressing her own smile.

"He said me making it as a _grease monkey_ was the only chance I had in a future career because I never apply myself," Thomas grumbled, nostrils flaring as his mind flashed back to being held back after class for 'a talking to'.

"Your Old man's a grease monkey," Jackson commented. "Nice big house... awesome kids…and a smokin' hot wife that doesn't just _play _doctor," he joked, kissing her neck, making Tara laugh at the groans of disgust from both of their sons. "Looks like I'm doing alright for myself. So if you ask me there's nothing wrong with fixing cars for a living."

"It sure isn't," Tara agreed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "…especially when the business you work for is your own."

"_I know that, Dad_," Thomas urged. "It's _Pearson_ that thinks it's a shi—a _crappy_ way to make a living. Like being a teacher is so fu—so _freakin _great. Have you seen the shoes he wears? Teachers can't be making all that much if he has to wear the same loafers he bought way back in the nineteen-forty's!"

"Everything isn't about _money, _jerk," Nathaniel argued. "And there's nothing wrong with being a teacher either! When I'm an English professor teaching creative writing at University my class is gonna be _bad-ass. _Everyone's going to sign up for it. _Full roster, _bitches!"

"Oh whatever, _Nerd-_thaniel," Thomas sneered. "You're just saying that because Pearson gives you all A's on every fu—every freakin writing assignment. Besides, no one even asked you Mr. _I-skipped-a-grade so I'm smarter than everyone._"

"Stop harassing your brother," Jackson warned, the most awful attempt at a stern expression Tara had ever seen plastered on his face. "….it's not his fault he's such a know-it-all. _He gets it from his mother._"

Tara smacked him over the head—and Jackson laughed right along with their son.

"You're _right_, baby," Tara encouraged her youngest son. "Teacher, Mechanic, _Doctor_. It doesn't matter. It's about doing something your passionate about."

Eyebrows rising, Jackson tilted his chin, his lips pressing against her ear as he whispered, "_I'm passionate about you, baby…._I guess that's why I can't stop _doing _you."

Pulling back, Jackson smiled at her, beyond elated that he could still make his wife giggle and blush like the sixteen year old girl that used to ride on the back of the very first Harley he'd ever gotten—the only teenager girl who'd ever had the privilege.

"_Sooooo._" Thomas smacked his lips loudly, narrowing his green eyes at the matching pair, smiling up at him. "You're not gonna threaten to make _Nate _eat soap for cursing?"

"Awww quit you're whining," Jackson scolded. "Or I'm gonna change my mind about letting you go to this _Comic-Con _shit."

"YEEAAAHHHHH!" Both teenage boys screamed, forgetting their argument just as swiftly as they slapped both of their palms together in a double-high-five.

"I didn't realize _we_ decided to let them go," Tara accused, steeling her emerald gaze on the husband that didn't even have the decency to look guilty.

Or scared.

Jackson shrugged. "Come on, babe," he urged. "It's in San Diego, right? We can make a little family vacation out of it. Lowell can open up and close the shop while I'm gone. We can go visit Diane—"

"—Are you forgetting about our—"

Jax pressed a finger to her lip, chuckling when she bit at it. "I didn't forget, babe. I'm not suggesting you ride up there by yourself. I'll leave my bike here. We can drive up together."

"They're underaged so they need a parent with them," Tara advised, crossing her arms over her chest again. "Who's chaperoning? I know _I'm _not. I've sat through enough super-hero movies. I don't need to go to a convention full of men who can't get laid and kids who get beat up in school dressing up as them."

"That's just _cold_, mom," Nathaniel said, shaking his head.

"And inaccurate," Thomas huffed, sticking his chest out. "I'd love to see somebody _try _to beat me up. I don't need a robot suit to kick someones ass!"

"Me either, bro," Nathaniel agreed, slapping hands with him again.

"_Jesus,_" Tara groaned, resting her head in the crook of Jackson's neck. "They really are your sons. What am I gonna do with them?"

"You know….there's something in it for you too, mom," Nathaniel suggested, wriggling his eyebrows at his mother.

_They even _look _just like you, _Tara thought as she watched a beardless version of her husband's face smiling at her—his blue eyes brightening with an inside joke he'd yet to clue her in on.

"What's in it for me?" Tara asked, deciding to play along.

"I got two words for you," Nathaniel answered. "The first one is _Charlie."_

"And the second one is _Hunnam_," Thomas interrupted, rolling his eyes. "We're supposed to convince mom to let _us _go so that Dad can take us. Not convince her to go, too. You really want to watch her drooling all over Raleigh Beckett when we're trying to get his autograph?"

"_Hold up,_" Jackson cut in, sitting up straight. "Who's this Raleigh guy? And who the Hell is Charlie and why is _he _what's in it for your mom?"

"They're the same person, Dad," Nathaniel corrected. "Charlie Hunnam is the actor who plays Raleigh Beckett, the most_ awesomeee _action hero _ever!"_

"Charlie Hunnam is _bad ass, _Dad," Thomas declared, his eyes wide as he waved his hands around, completely animated. "I can't believe you still haven't watched PAC-RIM with us yet!"

"I _did_," Tara mumbled, her voice dripping with boredom. "A bunch of robots punching giant, glowing jelly fish."

Jackson chuckled. "Typical monster versus hero bullshit, huh?"

Tara turned towards him, her smile playful. "Your sons seem to think this _Charlie Hunnam_ is just as bad ass as the action hero he portrays. How's it feel to be replaced as their number one hero, baby?"

Jax smirked, shrugging. "They want to grow up and be actors instead of _grease monkeys _that's cool with me, babe…._Hey_, you never know. They might end up being Hollywood Superstars…get us tickets to all the red carpet events….You know I've always wanted to meet _Maggie Siff_…..that's one smokin' babe. _Those eyes? _God-_damn! _ And you know I have a thing for brunettes…."

"Is _that_ so?" Tara scowled. "I hear Charlie Hunnam is a big fan of _Harleys…_rides around on one everywhere he goes."

Thomas snickered. "When she says she _heard…s_he means she read it in that magazine she keeps in the bottom drawer of her nightstand."

"And just what the Hell were you looking for in there?" Tara asked, eyeing her son suspiciously.

"Oh you mean _that _asshole?" Jax asked, rolling as his eyes as he recalled the photograph of the handsome, blonde actor shirtless and oiled up on the front cover of the magazine he'd found in the nightstand in question a while back. "I got two words for you too, babe. First one is _airbrushed _and the second one is _photoshop." _

Jax lifted his T-shirt up, looking down at the toned muscles of his taut abdomen. "Take a good look, boys. _This…_is what real abs look like."

"Sorry, dad," Nathaniel said, shrugging. "I'm pretty sure Charlie's are _way_ more ripped."

Thomas turned to scowl. "What the fuck are you doing staring at his abs anyway?"

"THOMAS!" Tara yelled, her voice barely carrying over her husband's laughter.

"I'm just saying it's _weird_, that's all," Thomas added, eyeing his brother.

"He's my inspiration," Nathaniel declared, rolling his eyes at his brother as he lifted up his own shirt to reveal the six-pack his fourteen year old self was already working with. "I've been following his diet. Read about it in mom's Mag stash."

"It's not a _stash_," Tara complained. "I'm not hiding them! Jesus…you'd think they were porn magazines the way you boys are acting."

"That double-page of him posing on that bike in his boxers did feel a little…_sticky._"

"_Blehhh_." Thomas twisted his face up like he'd swallowed a lemon. "T-M-I, bro. I did _not_ need to know that!"

"I spilled coffee when I was reading it at work," Tara said, rolling her eyes when all three of her Teller men responded with a chorus of "M_mhmmmm's_', with her husband's being the loudest as he glared at her.

"You're ripped like that because you work out with your _Old man_ six days a week," Jax declared, looking at Nathaniel. "Teller men know all about staying fit to keep the ladies happy….we don't need no _chick_ _diet,_ eating rabbit food and doing yoga like this _Charlie _dude."

"I thought you _liked_ Yoga," Tara teased, before leaning in to whisper in his ear. "….after all those positions I showed you on my mat the other night I'd say you fuckin loved it…emphasis on the _fuckin_ part."

Not wanting to _truly _scar his sons for life, Jax tried his best to be subtle when he adjusted the teasing woman on his lap so that the sudden throbbing between his legs was hidden underneath her ass (not that this did _him _any favors.)

"This is why your hands are so full now," Jax told her, smiling, blue eyes flitting down towards the ample cleavage peeking out of her V-neck blouse. "…and why _my_ hands are always so full."

_I'm gonna miss them_, Jackson thought knowing he'd only have a few more months to enjoy the three extra cup sizes Tara always went up when she was pregnant or nursing.

"This pac-man movie—"

"PAC-RIM, mom," Thomas corrected. "Pacific Rim 3. We got all access passes so we get to go the meet and greet _and _since Cody's mom is one of his agents he got us tickets to the special screening of the movie with e_xclusive _footage that won't even be in the film when it comes out next month!"

"Samantha's dad is getting her tickets to the Hollywood premiere," Nathaniel joined in. "She said she'll ask for two extra ones for me."

"That second ticket is mine, right bro?" Thomas asked.

"No question," Nathaniel declared, clapping his brothers back as he pulled him into a chest bumping hug.

"I have a _question_," Jax cut in. "This premiere….you think that actress Maggie Siff will be there? Because if so I'm gonna have to call dibs on the extra ticket."

Tara elbowed him in his stomach. She slid off his lap, smirking as Jax immediately moved to adjust his jeans.

"I think I _will _chaperone this whole Comic-Con event," Tara volunteered, a taunting look in her green eyes as she stared at her husband. "I want to get a good look at that _hot ass _of his in person….see how much _airbrushing _the film crew had to do when he did that movie fifty shades of grey. I tell you, babe…Donna went from dragging me to see that mommy-porn nonsense to having to drag my ass away from the ticket booth before I could purchase another ticket to watch it again. I think Nate picked the right _inspiration._"

_Mother Fuck a Charlie._

_I'm about to fifty_ your _shades, babe._

Jax didn't say it out loud—didn't even mouth the words to her.

He said it with his eyes.

And judging by the way she switched her hips, wriggling that tight ass of hers on her way out of the living room Tara read him _loud _and _clear._

Bracing herself against the railing of the staircase, the green-eyed brunette looked back at him, a silent message of her own shooting towards him.

The message was simple.

It was as simple as his dick was hard.

_"Come and get it, baby."_

"Aren't you guys due for a weekend gaming night?" Jax asked his sons, as he watched his wife sashay up the stairs, disappearing from view too quickly for his liking.

"_Welllll_…..I did kinda tell Cody me and Nate were coming over," Thomas admitted. "Of course that was _before _Mr. Pearson"—Thomas leaned towards his father, lowering his voice—"_the limp-dick geezer_"—Jax snickered right along with his sons—"snitched on me to mom about what I said as if _he _wasn't the one insulting my Old man."

Jax stood up, pulling the spare key he had for Tara's car from the jangling chain of keys he kept in his back pocket. "_No_ radio. _No_ talking on your phone _or_ texting. Take your asses _straight _there….and when your mom finds out the story is that _you _took the key when I wasn't paying attention."

"You don't feel even a little bad for letting your sons take the fall for your bad parenting choices?" Nathaniel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Jax tilted his head, looking at him. "You want stay here while Tommy plays GTA seven without you?"

"_Hell no_," Nathaniel exclaimed. "Thomas definitely stole the car keys. I even _saw_ him do it."

"Have fun, boys," Jax said, kissing the tops of both of their heads when he pulled them in for quick hugs—being extremely mindful of maintaining a gap between their lower bodies. "If you _can _try to make it back before twelve. And I mean afternoon _Thomas, _not twelve a.m at the precinct because Hale caught you hotboxing in the park again, you hear me you little shithead?"

"I'm starting to get why you kicked his ass so many times when you were in high school," Thomas complained. "He's such a dick-rider…._Ouch! _What the Hell, Dad!"

"That's one man you _better _respect," Jax warned him, steeling his son with a hard look that left no question as to how serious he was being. "That _dick-rider _is the reason your mom's still here with us…_don't you _ever_ forget that_. We clear?"

"Yes, sir," both teenagers answered solemnly.

"Besides…If I couldn't beat that stick out of his ass by now it's probably gonna stay there so ain't no point in bitchin about it," Jax added, chuckling along with his sons—switching from '_No bullshit'_ Dad to '_Best friend'_ Dad in mere seconds.

"I won't even bother telling you no smoking or drinking," Jax admitted, shaking his head. "I know your asses won't listen. I will tell you not to do _both _at the same time. And as for _you_," Jax said, grabbing his youngest son by his neck to whisper in his ear. "Don't get _caught _coming out of Samantha's room….Your mom says no sex until you're eighteen. Your _Old man _says no babies until you can take care of them without mom's help. Be smart, son. _Condoms." _

"I _know_, Dad," Nathaniel said, clearing his throat when the sudden bass in his voice didn't quite come out the way he wanted it to. "I _always_ use protection."

"BULLSHIT!" Thomas snickered. "You don't need protection for your hand, bro."

Jax struggled with suppressing his own laughter as he watched his youngest son—the spitting image of his high school year book photo—turn tomato-red.

_Tommy must be right._

_I guess your mom really doesn't have anything to worry about…with_ you.

"You really do have your Old man's taste in women don't you?" Jax mused, smirking at him.

_Enjoy those blue balls, kid._

"I _tried _hooking him up with Kimberly's twin sister_ Amber_," Thomas explained, rolling his green eyes. "He's the one that would rather chase the one rabbit in our entire school that ain't offering up no tail."

"Shut the Hell up!" Nathaniel scowled. "I can't believe Cody's worried about _me _disrespecting his sister."

"Don't sweat it, Son," Jax told Nathaniel as he walked backwards, towards the staircase. "_The ones who make you wait are worth it."_

"I hope so for his sake," Thomas mumbled. "Blue balls are no joke….that's what I _heard _anyway."

Jax stopped walking, chuckling at his son. "I'm about ten seconds away from calling your mom back down here to give you another lesson on how to treat females with respect. Get the Hell out of here, you little skirt-chasing asshole. I love you both. _Goodnight!"_

"_Love you, Dad_," Thomas said, already running towards the front door.

"_Love you_," Nathaniel echoed, trailing right behind him.

Jax shook his head, laughing as he watched Nathaniel run back towards the couch—picking up the sketch book he'd almost forgotten about before resuming his pursuit of the front exit.

_You should show Samantha a couple of them sketches you drew of her, _Jax thought as he listened for the sound of his sons pulling out of the driveway. _It'll probably at least get you a hand job._

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><p><strong>0-8888888-0-8888888-0-8888888-0<strong>

Jax was already reaching to pull his shirt over his head as he sprinted down the hallway.

He was almost there—one arm already outstretched towards the cracked master bedroom door.

That was when he heard it.

The sound was raspy but soft—quiet, like static.

So quiet that it should have gone unnoticed.

But he'd heard it.

A tiny cough.

It was followed by a low whine—the warning bell before the full on crying started.

Jax made an about face, changing directions as he headed towards the other cracked room in the middle of the second story hallway of his house.

He pushed the door open gently, blinking against the brightness of the glowing stars plastered along the pink and white walls of the nursery.

Walking towards her, Jax slowly lifted three month old _Jacquelyn Grace Teller_ out of her crib, bouncing her lightly in his arms as he made his way towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room—next to the window nook.

The shadows reflecting in the moonlight seeping into the room through the large bay-window went in and out of focus as he rocked her back and forth in the chair, brushing the soft, blonde curls of her hair back the way he loved to brush her mother's.

"_You're so beautiful_," Jax told his daughter as he cradled her in his arms. "Just like your mommy….it kinda makes it hard to be mad at you for interrupting daddy's fun."

"_Quit blaming her for you bad behavior, Teller_."

Jax tore his gaze away from the emerald eyes staring dreamily up at him to meet an identically green pair.

Tara made her way towards them, pulling at the strings of her robe to reveal the lacy, silk Teddy she'd changed into—the nightie he couldn't wait to tear off of her.

"You're lucky it's time for me to feed her again," Tara told him. "Or you'd be in _big_ trouble for not listening to me. I keep telling you she needs to learn how to self-sooth, Jax. You can't run in here every time she whines. I'm not going through what I went through with Nathaniel. _You're _not the one that had to get out of bed every night once you spoiled him rotten."

"You're the boss, babe," Jax told her, rising slowly—sliding around her to allow her to take his place in the rocking chair.

Tara held her hands out, kissing her daughters forehead as she gingerly angled her tiny head towards her chest, sliding the straps of her camisole down before guiding her swollen nipple towards little Jacqueline's waiting mouth.

Jax leaned down over the suckling child to plant a kiss on his wife's lips.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick," Jax said, unable to resist kissing her one more time before standing upright again. "The boys are sleeping over the Whitman's."

"Good job, _Father of the Year_." Tara smirked at him knowingly, looking down at the baby in her arms. "As soon as I finish with—"

"Quit talking, woman!" Jax scolded, winking at her when Tara's eyebrows threaded together in confusion. "You should really rest your voice. When I'm done making you scream you'll probably lose it anyway. But still…._shhhh…_I don't want to talk about it….Fuck Charlie Hunnam. _I'm the _real _action man._"

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><p><strong>|REVIEW| <strong>if you loved it so I can know _WHY _you loved it (fav parts, etc) for the next (knock on wood) "One shot" idea that pops into my head. **:-)**

**Show me some luvvv.**

Oh and just an **FYI **I'm currently writing an **(AU)** fanfic of the teenage years of Jax & Tara **_Uncharming & the Prince_** so if I do decide to make this a series of one-shots it will likely entail any changes I made to the mythology of the show through my story of them as teenagers.


	2. PROMISES

**A/N: **Another glimpse into the Jackson & Tara Teller Happily Ever After **I **wanted...

**ONE-SHOT: "PROMISES****" **There's only **one **Jackson could never regret breaking...

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><p><strong>0-8888888-0-8888888-0-8888888-0<strong>

Jackson Nathaniel Teller was beyond handsome.

And the word _sexy _didn't quite cover it either.

Jax was a beautiful man—gorgeous in a way that made it almost painful to look at him sometimes.

Tara Grace Teller knew all about pain.

When it came to agony, Dr. Teller was a fuckin connoisseur these days.

And that was all thanks to her beautiful husband—the man lying in bed next to her, doing something she hadn't been able to for weeks.

Sleeping soundly—so peacefully it was damn near Angelic.

_"WAKE UP!" _Tara yelled abruptly, smacking him over the head with the rolled up magazine she'd been reading, while she waited impatiently for the man of the day's honor to finish enjoying his beauty rest.

Jax stirred immediately—blue eyes gaping at the brunette sitting on the bed beside him, glaring a hole into his face. "Morning, babe...how're you feeling?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "You better get up and put some clothes on before—"

The sound of multiple fists pounded loudly against the master bedroom door.

"Guess I'm not getting breakfast in bed this year," Jax teased, kissing her neck before rolling out of bed, headed towards the bathroom to put his robe on.

"You wouldn't be getting any _breakfast_ from me regardless," Tara mumbled under her breath, sliding out of bed to go unlock the bedroom door. Waddling back towards the bed, she narrowed her eyes at the sound of knuckles wrapping against the door again.

"It's open," Tara said, flattening the magazine in her hand to resume reading it.

"WE'RE COMING IN NOW," Nathaniel Teller announced loudly, turning the door knob slowly.

"No childhood trauma, please," Thomas joked as he used the breakfast tray in his hands to push the door open. Staring over at his mother, he cocked an eyebrow in question. "Does tradition mean _nothing _to you? You were supposed to _help _us."

"Don't poke the bear, Bro," Nathaniel warned, immediately noticing his mother's cranky mood.

"_Dude!"_ Thomas exclaimed, shaking his head at the sixteen year old boy standing next to him. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm trying to help _you _out," Nathaniel said, struggling to hold onto the hyper two year old trying with all her might to fight her way out of his arms. Leaning towards his brother, he lowered his voice adding quietly, "_You know how _bitchy_ she's been lately."_

"And you think calling her a _bear _helps with that?"

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "It's an expression, dumb ass."

"What's all _this?_" Jax asked, walking out of the bathroom.

"DAH-DEEEE!" Jacquelyn Teller squealed, fighting even harder against her brother's embrace as her little arms reached towards her smiling father.

"Hey, baby girl," Jax crooned, walking towards them. Shaking his head at the blonde-haired boy holding her, he cooed, "How's my little _princess _doing this morning?"

"Don't shake your head at me," Nathaniel said, pointing towards the dark-haired boy balancing a tray of steaming breakfast in his hands.. "_Thomas_ is the one who got her dressed."

Thomas looked back and forth between the fairy princess costume his little sister was wearing and the stern expression on his mother's face as she pursed her lips at him over Jax's shoulder.

"She wouldn't let me put on anything else," Thomas explained, shrugging. "Be happy I got her dressed _after _she helped us make breakfast."

"I'm not cleaning the mess I _know _you left in that kitchen," Tara commented, flipping to a new page in her magazine. "And when I go downstairs it had better be spotless or my foot'll be lodged up both your asses."

All three Teller men were nice enough not to point out her breaking the _no cursing in front of Jacquelyn 'the sponge' _rule.

They were also too scared to point out the fact that she couldn't even lift her foot high enough to do what she was threatening.

_"Dah-dee! Dah-dee!" _Jacquelyn chanted. Turning towards the teenager keeping her hostage, she balled up her tiny fist, hitting him in the face.

Jax laughed, pulling her from his son's arms. "You really are your mother's child…_you love hitting people when you're angry."_

"_Jackie_," Thomas called, chuckling as he watched Nathaniel rub his eye. "Do you remember what you're supposed to say?"

The two year old nodded quickly, blonde curls bouncing around her head as she beamed at her father. "Happy…._hap-peee….._daddy day?" When Thomas nodded encouragingly at her, the little girl's face lit up. Pressing her hands on her father's grinning face, she shrieked, "Happy dad days Dah-deee!"

Jax kissed her forehead. "Thank you, Angel."

Nathaniel scoffed as he watched his father head towards his bed, sitting at the foot of it—bouncing her in his lap. "That little spawn is _not _an Angel."

"Maybe next time you'll put her down," Thomas teased, walking towards them. "Put some ice on it, bro. _You'll live_."

"She didn't hit me that hard."

"Happy father's day, Old man," Thomas said, sitting the tray of food down next to his father. "Keep in mind….when you're eating your eggs...it's the _thought _that counts….not all the shells I didn't pick out."

"Thank you." Jax smirked, ruffling his oldest child's hair as he sat on the bed next to him.

"Happy Father's day, Dad." Jax looked up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the poorly wrapped gift Nathaniel held out towards him. "Sorry about the wrapping….not like I'm a fuckin elf from the North Pole."

Jax kicked him in his leg, shaking his head as he glared. "Watch your mouth."

Tara snorted behind them. "_Now _he cares."

"Not in front of Gracie..._either one of them_," Jax advised, kissing the top of her head as Jacquelyn pulled at the corners of the buttered toast on the tray.

"Don't play with your food, Jackie," Thomas scolded, taking the bread from her hand—smirking at his father as he spread jam across it, taking a large bite before sitting it back on the plate.

"BACON!" Jacquelyn demanded, pointing at the clump of extra-crispy on the other side of the plate.

"That's more like _charcoal_," Nathaniel joked. Lifting one of the hash browns from the plate, he held it in front of her mouth, smiling when she nibbled the end of it. "Better stick with the stuff I made…_you, too, Dad."_

"Oh _fuck _you." Thomas jumped back from his father's flying hand, dodging a blow to his forehead—only to get hit in the back of his head.

"Get off of my legs," Tara hissed, smacking him with the magazine just as she'd done his father. "What is wrong with you?!"

"Babe," Jax groaned, looking up at her. "Are you going to be like this all day?"

Shooting daggers at him, her emerald eyes briefly touched on her daughters curious face before she mouthed her answer to him. _"Do you want to me to chop off your dick?"_

Reading her lips, all three Teller men laughed—chuckling harder, when she growled—just like an angry bear—standing up from the bed.

"I'm getting in the shower," Tara announced, slamming the bathroom door behind her as she left the room.

"Did someone switch her vitamins with steroids?" Thomas muttered, staring wide-eyed as his father.

"That's roid-rage if I ever seen it," Nathaniel agreed, letting out a low whistle as he nodded in agreement. "Good luck with that, Dad."

"Thanks," Jax said, rising from the bed—his baby girl in his arms. "I think I'm gonna need it."

Pressing his lips to one cheek, then the other—Jax alternated between kissing both sides of her face until Jacquelyn was reduced to a fit of giggles. Raising her high above his head, he blew a raspberries against her stomach, chuckling at the way she wriggled and twisted in his arms, fidgeting the way her mother always did when he used to tickle her. Pulling her tight against his chest, he hugged his daughter—basking in the tight hold she had around his neck. Pulling back, her green eyes sparkled with unadultered admiration and love as she kissed the bridge of her father's nose. "Love you, Dah-dee."

"I love you too, Princess," Jax told her, smiling. "Daddy needs to help mommy get ready for the party, okay?"

"PARTY!" Jacquelyn screeched, green eyes widening as she beamed her father.

Snickering along with his sons, Jax held a finger to her lips. "_shhhhhhh…_.it's a surprise for mommy okay?"

Jacquelyn nodded. "A _seek-it?_"

"That's right," Jax said, looking up towards his grinning sons. "It's a secret. And I need you to hang out with Tommy and Nate. Keep them company while I help mommy get ready for her secret. Think you can do that?"

"Yesssss."

Jax chuckled, unable to resist kissing her forehead one more time before holding her out to the sixteen year old standing in front of him. Nathaniel shook his head, pointing at his eye as he nodded towards the seventeen year old smirking beside him. "Let _him _get punched in the face for a change."

Thomas rolled his eyes, grabbing the two year old from his father's arms. "You act like she's Mayweather or some sh—_something."_

Jax smirked at his son. "First curse word she says…._you're taking the heat for it."_

"The bear's gonna poke _you,_" Nathaniel teased.

"Go clean up the kitchen," Jax ordered, headed towards the bathroom. "When you're finished get dressed and call Donna. She's gonna come get you guys."

"_Aww man."_ Thomas scrunched his face up. "I wanted to ride my bike!"

"_Ditto!" _Nathaniel agreed. "Come on, _Dad._"

"You're riding with your sister," Jax declared, turning the knob on the bathroom door. "And make sure driving-miss-_crazy _doesn't kill my kid."

"You do have more than one you know," Thomas complained, glaring at the little girl in his arms.

"How could I forget?" Jax voiced, pointing towards the bathroom. "You little monsters are the reason I'm on my wife's sh—_her doodee list."_

_"Doo-dee-doo-dee-dooo," _Jacquelyn sang, tilting her head side to side.

"Quit being a parakeet," Thomas scolded the crooning child in his arms.

"Yeah right." Nathaniel rolled his eyes. "She's two years old. All kids are sponges at that age."

"I've been meaning to _ask _you about your AP Psychology class," Thomas said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sounds like you're on the Early childhood development chapter..._Nerd._"

"Get out," Jax instructed, pushing the bathroom door open as he pointed at them. "And lock the door."

* * *

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Jax shut the bathroom door behind him, turning the lock on the door.

When he turned around, his wife was standing in front of the sink—bracing her hands against the marble surface as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

_Oh boy._

_Here we go again._

"You're beautiful, babe," he said, moving to stand behind her—kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.

Tara's eyes fluttered closed.

But she still shook her head at him through the glass. "I'm a fuckin cow."

Jax chuckled, sliding back out of the way as she aimed an elbow towards his stomach. "We go through this _every _time….Tara, listen to me—"

"_Listening_ to you is what led to his," Tara accused, narrowing her green eyes at the grin widening across his face.

Slowly—gently he spun her around to face him.

"You're _beautiful_," Jax repeated, reaching up to thread his hand in her hair, brushing the pad of them against her cheek as he cupped her chin—leaning in to kiss her softly. "Every inch of you is _perfect_….you are so gorgeous it's—"

"Stop." Tara shook her head, closing her eyes to the solemn, passionate expression boring into her face.

"You really that mad at me, babe?" Jax wondered, both hands cradling her face now as he waited patiently for her to look at him again. "You're gonna deny me the thing I love most about you….my _favorite_ part of you…" Tara's lids flew open. And there they were.

Captivating.

Her emerald eyes locked in with his own—and just like that he was sixteen years old all over again.

Only one word came to mind when he found himself lost in the effect they always had on him—the effect they would _always _have on him.

Speaking his mind, the word came out in a husky breath. _"Sexy."_

Tara's answering groan wasn't one of pleasure. But rueful or not, he delighted in the smile slowly upturning the corners of her mouth. "_I'm not at mad at you_….not really."

_Yeah right._

"I know," Jax answered, kissing her forehead when she looked down at the joining of their hands when he dropped his own to intertwine them with hers. "And _I'm sorry." _When Tara looked up, narrowing her eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him he laughed at the annoyance—the skepticism in her expression. "Okay, fine. I'm not really _sorry….._I just don't like you being in pain."

"I'm not in pain," Tara corrected. "I'm _uncomfortable…._and _fat…._and exhausted….and _fat…._I didn't even get any sleep last night."

"That why you assaulted me in my bed?"

Tara snorted. "You're lucky I didn't kick you on the floor."

"How about this," Jax said, smiling at her pouting face. "From now on I'll stay up with you…and if you wake up in the middle of the night and can't go back to sleep just wake me up and I'll—"

"_Bullshit." _Tara giggled at the fake, wounded expression on his face. "You know damn well you're not staying up with me. You're dead to the world as soon as you come home."

"Not anymore." Jax squared his shoulders. "I'm going on a sleep strike for the next few weeks. You don't sleep, I don't sleep….and if I happen to nod off on my ride to work you can use the life insurance check to buy our kids love back when they find out daddy was sleep deprived because mommy gets cranky and likes to beat people out of their sleep with magazines when she's uncomfortable."

"This is why you didn't get breakfast in bed," Tara taunted. "You're an asshole."

"That's okay, babe," Jax bit back. "I don't think it's the best idea for you to be sitting on my face right now anyway….might smother me to death…._Free Willy."_

Tara slapped him in the face. "Fuck you."

Jax chuckled—laughing harder as Tara braced herself against the sink, kicking him in his ass when he leaned over, twisting the shower nozzle on.

"Keep it coming, babe," Jax said as he adjusted the temperature. "I want you to get it all out of your system now. You're not allowed to pick a fight with me in public. Ope's still giving me Hell for the way you flipped out at our wedding….couldn't even say _I do _before threatening that death _would_ do us part when you killed me for knocking you up._"_

_Like it was _my _fault your water broke when you were walking down the aisle._

_Maybe Nate wanted to be our flower girl._

"You just called me a _whale_."

Jax shrugged. "You're the one that keeps saying it," he told her. "Telling you it isn't true ain't getting me nowhere so I figured I'd try agreeing with you and see how that works out. Guess what, Tara? You've turned me into a _chubby chaser. _I'm in love with a beached _whale._ It's okay though. _More cushion for the pushing, _babe. I don't mind a little extra chunk in my bunk."

Tara's green eyes widened, arms crossing over her chest. "You think you're funny?"

"My baby's got _back," _Jax drawled, walking over to unbutton the top to her flannel pajamas. Tara swatted his hand away. "_My anaconda don't. Want. None. Unless you—"_

"_Jackson!_" Tara shrieked. "What the Hell is wrong with—"

"YOU'RE NOT FAT!" Jax yelled, gripping her shoulders. "You're hot as Hell. And _this," _he said, sliding his hands down—pressing both palms against her swollen stomach. "This is proof of that, Tara. I can't keep my hands off of you, even now. _Especially _now. You're glowing, babe. I can't imagine how you're _feeling _but I can damn sure tell you how you _look. _You're my wife. The _sexy…._gorgeous….._beautiful _mother of my children and I swear to _God _if you don't cut it out I'm gonna tie you up in the kitchen and make you eat cake."

Tara snorted, looking down at her body. "_Too late."_

Jax rolled his eyes. Grazing her mouth with his own, he reached around, palming her ass as he kissed her. Pulling back, Tara giggled at the no-bullshit expression on his face.

"That doesn't even work on your kids," Tara teased.

"Just get in the shower," Jax commanded. "We're gonna be late."

"Late for _what? _Where are we going?" Tara questioned. "I know its father's day, baby and you probably want to go out to—"

"_Shower."_

"Jaxxx." Tara whined. "I don't even have an outfit that fits me right—"

Jax pulled at the drawstrings of her pajamas, sliding the pants down to her ankles along with her panties. Pulling the remaining buttons of her shirt apart, he unclasped her bra, tossing it to the floor.

"Get your _ass _in the shower."

"Where are we going?"

"_Tara."_

_"Jax."_

"It's a _seek-it," _Jax hissed, smiling despite his frustration. "Ten seconds, Teller….then I'll be loading you in a truck and tossing you back in the sea where you belong." Jax laughed when she punched him in the chest. "_Please, _babe. Do I ever give you a hard time on mother's day?"

"_Every_ day is mother's day," Tara retorted, grinning when he rolled his eyes, sighing. "Am I allowed to wear sweat pants?"

"Sure," Jax lied, figuring it was the safest bet he'd get her to comply. "You can wear whatever you want to, babe."

_If the dress Donna bought you doesn't fit I'm gonna kill her._

"One more question," Tara promised.

"What's that?" Jax braced himself for the landmine, pinching the bridge of his nose as he waited.

Tara walked past him, slowly stepping into the shower before turning to face him.

Her smile was playful—slightly bashful, reminding him of the time when she'd ask him to _help _her shower when they were teenagers and she'd gotten into an accident that left her injured.

"Feel like washing my back for me?"

Jax untied his bath robe, dropped it to the floor, walking towards her. Pulling the shower door shut behind him as he stepped inside, he knelt down in front of her—kissing both sides of her pregnant belly. Looking up at her, he grinned mischievously as he pressed his lips to the V between her legs, spreading her with his fingers, strumming against the moisture pooling at her center.

Tara gasped, gripping the metal rack built into the shower wall as he slowly lifted one her leg, balancing it with the iron-tight grip on her thigh as he flicked his tongue out against her. Holding her steady—keeping her from falling proved to be quite a challenge as he licked her clit, lapping at the sensitive nub until she came. The second she did, Jax reached to grab her other thigh. Pushing her up, Tara's back slid along the wall as he hooked her legs over his shoulders, pressing her into the corner as he plunged his tongue in and out her—sucking on her clit, slurping hard on the throbbing bud until she came again.

"_Jackson_," Tara breathed as he peppered kisses along her inner thighs. "I thought you….you said we're….we're gonna be late."

Looking up at her, Jax smirked. "You're the one that denied me my breakfast in _bed," _he accused, wriggling his eyebrows. "It's your fault I had to improvise…._now where was I?"_

Tara cried out—her moans reverberating off the shower walls as her husband delighted in the Father's Day meal he always cheekily requested when she'd ask him what he wanted to eat. Jackson Teller gave new meaning to the expression _breakfast of champions _and one way or another he never had to fight her to get what he wanted.

It was _his _day after all—not that it ever _felt _that way.

* * *

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The club house parking lot was jam packed.

Way too many witnesses for Jax to strangle his wife for complaining the whole ride there about the scarf covering her eyes as if she'd _never _forced him into a surprise.

"It's _father's _day," Tara complained. "Why am _I _the guest of honor?"

"Keep it up, you might not make it," Jax mumbled, taking a moment to roll his eyes at the blindfolded woman in the passenger seat next to him as he parallel parked.

"I still think this dress is too tight."

Jax pulled the keys out of the ignition. Getting out of the car, he walked around to her side, helping her out—guiding her towards the crowd of people waiting for them, their three smiling children included.

"Momeeee! Dah-deee!" Jacquelyn was wind-milling her arms out against the person holding her captive again as her parents drew closer.

But Johnathan Teller was smart of enough to move his face away from the onslaught—bobbing and weaving the determined fists of his granddaughter while everyone laughed.

"That's Jackie boy's kid alright," Chibs said, snickering as he elbowed the tall, bearded, beanie-wearing man standing beside him with a little girl of his own in his arms.

"Jackie _Junior," _Opie agreed, bouncing his three-year old daughter in his arms.

"You gonna let me see any time soon, Teller?" Tara asked.

"_Take it off her," _said another familiar voice. "It's not like she doesn't already know what we're up to. She knows every damn thing."

Tara yanked the scarf from her face. The dark cloth flitted towards the ground as she beamed at the woman standing to the left of her. "_Diane?"_

"Hey, Gracie," her aunt said, grunting when Tara barreled into her chest, nearly knocking the wind out of her with the baby bump between them. "Why is it that every time I see you you're pregnant?"

"You want them to draw you a chart?" Piney joked, stepping towards them. Brushing Diane aside, he leaned in towards Tara, trying his best to avoid the mountain between them as he pulled her in for a hug. "Hey, baby girl. _Congratulations."_

"Congratulations," echoed the blonde walking up from behind him. "What is this number _seven_?"

Tara rolled her eyes at Wendy, turning towards the young, sandy-haired boy standing next to her. Abel Harland's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief as he appraised her. "We better keep an eye on these guys, Dad," he said, briefly looking over towards the man standing between Happy and the other SAMCRO Club members. "All the Hell Uncle Jax gave y'all about getting out and he's forming his own rival MC behind our backs."

"If that's true we already know who the _President _is going to be," Thomas Teller announced, pointing towards his chest as he winked at his grandfather.

JT shook his head, looking down at the fidgeting child in his arms. "I don't Tommy," the old man said. "I think Jacquelyn'll be the one holding the gavel."

"I think so, too," Lowell agreed, smirking at the mock-suspicion etched across his eighteen year son's face. Tara didn't miss the way his eyes kept flitting back towards the _PROSPECT _patch sewn into the breast pocket of Abel's leather vest—there was no way the pride she saw could be masked.

Tara took a quick glance around, immediately noticing two things.

Every father around her was either holding their child or standing right beside them—but it was Father's day after all.

Yet somehow her husband and all of their amazing friends and family had managed to make a day for honoring father's about her—and all the mommy's and daddy's didn't seem the slightest bit worried that they'd completely gone against her wishes.

_I told you I didn't want a baby shower._

The words were right on the tip of her tongue.

But looking at Donna and Opie Winston—and their two young daughters, their teenage son who was already eyeing the Prospect Kutte on Abel's back as he counted down the days until his seventeenth birthday in his head.

Looking at John as he bounced her daughter in his arms—the way his own daughter Trinity, stood next to him, snickering at the spoiled child's behavior.

The way Karianne Telford leaned into Chibs' embrace, completely unaware that her father wasn't blind to way she was staring at Thomas or the way the oldest Teller couldn't decide if he wanted to risk getting his ass kicked by his Godfather Filip Telford or Kozik as he alternated between winking and licking his lips at both of their daughters.

Watching Wendy fuss over her son's hair while Abel swatted her hands away, pretending she was annoying him warmed her heart the most when she considered how far the Harland family had come, how they almost didn't make it through—just like her and Jax.

It didn't matter that she felt like a Jersey Cow.

She no longer cared that the ballet flats on her swollen feet weren't nearly as comfortable as advertised—or that Donna probably forgot how much taller Tara was than her judging by how short the dress she picked out for her was, leaving her chunky thighs exposed. (And they _were _chunky. She didn't give a damn what her husband said. That man was more than just a Teller. Jax was a _story-_teller.)

Tara was happy to be surrounded by so much love.

People she loved with her all heart—people that loved each other.

She'd had so many stand in's, bounced back and forth between so many obstacles in her life that as a kid—Hell, even as a teenager she'd never imagined she would have a family when her mother died.

She had more than she could have ever hoped for.

And she'd make damn sure she appreciated—no matter how much it grated on her nerves that Jax enjoyed doing the opposite of what she said, and yet somehow _always _managed to make her love him even more for it.

"Y'all planning on feeding us?" Tara asked, rubbing her belly.

Jax smirked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "Come on, babe," he said before touching upon all the smiling faces they passed as he lead her towards the Club house doors. "You guys have to excuse her..._I'm the only one that ate breakfast this morning."_

* * *

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Tara's ass may as well have been glued to the large, ribbon covered loved seat in the center of the room. Every time she moved to stand up, someone was pushing her back down.

Even when Jax snuck out to give their sons pointers on sparring with each other in the outside ring (despite her protests that their hotheaded asses didn't _need _to know how to box...especially eachother) his brothers were vigilant. They guided her right back to her throne every time she managed to make it a few steps.

Donna and Wendy were traitors—straight up snitches, ratting on her when she even looked like she was about to move.

It was family day at Club Reaper—not a crow eater or hang around in sight as they laughed and joked. As everyone stuffed their faces with food, warmed their belly's with liquor, teasing her for not being able to join them for any of their celebratory shots.

And despite her earlier compliance—her biting her tongue, silencing her complaints about how awful and huge she felt, Jax still spoon-fed her cake.

Her _and_ the greedy two-year old sitting on his knee as he did so.

Then it was time to open the presents.

When Opie and Piney pushed the Chapel house doors open, revealing the stacks of gifts covering the table inside, Tara's eyes widened.

"Oh God," Tara gasped. "I _told _you we didn't n—"

"Awww shut up," Opie exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Looking around the room, he requested, "Everyone in this clubhouse that has _ever _told Tara _not _to do something for you and she did it anyway, raise your hand."

Everyone's hand was in the air.

"Don't worry, bro," Jax said, leaning down from where he stood beside her chair to kiss her forehead. "Someday she'll stop insisting on taking care of everyone else and let her family take care of her."

"We opening these presents or what?" Wendy inquired, rubbing her palms together. "I'm calling it _now. _The one from me and Lowell is gonna be her favorite…whether she admits it or not."

Jax looked down at Tara, smiling. "You ready, babe?" When Tara nodded, he moved to stand in front of her, pulling her up by both of her hands. Thomas and Nathaniel immediately reached for the love seat she'd gotten up from.

"Leave the damn chair," Tara hissed, scowling at the offensive straw material that had been chafing against her ass, even sticking her in places the whole time she was forced to sit there. Jacquelyn eliminated the oncoming argument when she reached towards it.

JT sat her in the chair—and everyone laughed as the little girl squealed when her older brothers flew across the room, holding the chair up high as they zoomed inside of the open Chapel doors.

"I'm gonna kill both you shitheads if you drop her!" Jax threatened as his sons disappeared behind the tower of gift bags and wrapped boxes.

"Jax," Tara complained as he gripped her waist, hips thumping into hers as she waddled across the room. She turned around to face him, hands flying to her hips. "I'm not an invalid you know. I can walk across a—_OH!"_

"Yay!" Donna cheered.

"Oh no," several men in the crowd moaned.

"I tell you what Donovan," Abel said, looking over at Donna and Opie's son. "I'll give you my prospect Kutte _right_ now….then _you _can be the one to mop that shit up."

"_Babe,_" Jax whined, looking down at what used to be crisp white Nike's. "I _just _bought these sneakers."

* * *

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The ride to the hospital was relatively short—couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes the most.

But for Jackson Teller it felt like fifteen goddamn years.

"Babe you gotta calm down," he coached. "Take deep br—"

"STOP TELLING ME TO BREATHE YOU FUCKIN ASSHOLE! _YOU DID THIS TO ME!"_

"Tara—"

"_SHUT UP AND RUB MY BACK!"_

The fact that he was putting all his energy and effort into trying to comfort his wife through her contractions was the _only _reason he didn't punch her aunt Diane _and _his father in the back of their heads for laughing their asses off in the front seat of the car.

* * *

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Jax brushed her bangs back from her face, kissing her hand as he sat at her bedside.

"How long did she—"

"She's coming right back, Jax," Tara promised, smiling at the eager father's impatience with the Nurse who'd said she be right back.

Biting his lip didn't help.

He couldn't resist bringing it up—again.

"I still don't know how you convinced me to sign off—"

"_Easy._" Tara interrupted, turning to smirk at the disappointment on his face.

Jax looked like a little kid who'd only realized after it was too late that trading ten pennies for one quarter didn't make him the sharpest knife in the drawer.

"I don't understand why—"

Tara shook her head, giggling. "I gave you a choice, Jax…either I tied my tubes or you'd have to _snip, snip, snip."_

_"_Whatever happened to _no glove, no love?" _Jax huffed. "We could have used condoms."

"Right."

"Babe—"

"_It's done, Jackson_," Tara said gently, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. "You gotta let it go, baby."

"I am." Jax's demeanor wasn't very convincing—at first. Then his face lit up, brightened by the salacious look he was giving her. "No more kids, but we can still practice…._all the time."_

Tara shook her head, green eyes flitting towards the ceiling. "Even when the doctor gives us the green light I don't know if I ever want you anywhere near my—"

"I can always make good use of that sexy mouth of yours," Jax teased, snatching his hand away before he had to hang up his career as a mechanic.

"I can make good use of my fists too, asshole," Tara hissed, glaring. "But don't worry, it involves a mouth, too. _Yours…._and your nose, too depending on how the first punch feels."

"Come on, babe," Jax ribbed, amused that he could still ignite the hair-trigger temper she always had just as quickly as he could put out the fire when he got good and ready to. "It's not like I can use my hands...I think you broke my damn fingers squeezing the hell out of them."

Tara snorted. "Serves you right for knocking me up…_again."_

"I think _you _had something to do with it."

Tara's eyes widened. "Oh, is _that _how you remember it?"

Jax snickered, knowing exactly where she was going. "Don't you?"

"I _remember_ Jacquelyn knocking my birth control pills over," Tara said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I _remember _our trip to the Vet to make sure _Sammie _didn't grow breasts after eating them." Jax laughed, shaking his head at her. "I _remember _going two weeks without them because I kept forgetting to refill the prescription in between back to back surgeries and making sure my whole family didn't die of pneumonia because my _husband _thought it was a good idea to take our kids on a hiking trip with his brothers after I _told _him it was going to be rainy and cold all weekend."

"My princess didn't get sick," Jax commented, grinning at her. "She has her mommy's immune system."

"And her daddy's knack for being a pain in the ass," Tara snapped. "It would have been better if she _did _have the flu. Maybe she wouldn't have been running around in that fairy princess costume I told you to not to buy her."

"I love the way you think you can boss me around," Jax teased, leaning towards her to whisper in her ear. "That's why sometimes I _let _you."

Tara nudged him in the face with her shoulder, glaring at him. "You gonna let me finish?"

"Don't I _always?_" Jax snuck a quick kiss—grazing her mouth with his own before pulling back, smirking at her struggle to stay mad at him.

"I also remember when you came home from drinking with Ope and the guys," Tara accused, her voice quiet. "I remember you breaking up my damn journal—"

"—the one _I_ bought you for Christmas—"

"_My _journal when you knocked it out of my hand, lifting me up on my desk…."

Was she trying to punish him?

If so it was working.

Making him horny with zero intention of doing anything about it was the very definition of evil.

Tara knew damn well he remembered every detail about that night.

Jax loved fuckin her in her study—on top of her desk, against the wall, on all fours on that ugly area rug spread across the hardwood floor.

_Loved._

"I begged you—"

"_Hell yeah, _babe." Jax nodded his head, giving into the memory. "You couldn't _stop _begging—"

"—told you I wasn't on the pill and we needed to use—"

"That was your mistake thinking I was actually listening to anything you said once I got your bra off," Jax explained, smirking.

"You _were _listening," Tara declared. "You did some begging of your own Teller…and you _promised…._you _swore—"_

Jax rolled his eyes. "Oh give me a break."

_"Please baby_," Tara crooned, mocking his voice. "_I swear to _God _I'll pull out."_

Jax leaned over her bed, face pressing against her legs as he laughed at her.

Tara brought her knee up, hitting him in his forehead which only made him laugh harder.

"I swear to you, babe," Jax said, grinning at her small smile easing its way into her features. "That's the first promise I'll _never _regret breaking."

"You'd regret it if I chop your dick off like I wanted to a few hours ago," she joked, giggling despite herself.

_"Knock, Knock."_

Both laughing Teller's looked towards the door as two young nurses eased their way into the room. The only sound whistling through the air then was the subtle squeak of the bassinets' wheels as they pushed towards the happy parents.

"I wasn't sure you'd be up to breastfeeding," the taller of the two commented. "So I brought some formula just in case."

"We figured maybe _dad _could give you a break on your first night," the shorter nurse added, smiling shyly at Jax—cheeks reddening.

Lucky for her, Jax was too distracted to toy with her obvious attraction to him (despite how much he still loved to press Tara's buttons.)

Jax stood up from his chair. "Can we—"

"Of course you can." Beaming at him, the taller nurse—Cassandra Griffith according to her St. Thomas key-card, leaned over the bassinet, scooping the newborn child up, gingerly placing him into his father's waiting arms.

"Hey, buddy," Jax crooned, swaying lightly side to side. "I'm you're Old man….you want to say Hi to mommy?"

"He _better_," Tara joked, holding her arms out. "He's the one that damn tore my insides apart with his big head."

Cassandra giggled at the tired mother's brashness as she, too beamed at her newborn son.

All her co-worker Susan could do was sigh quietly at the reluctance in Jax's eyes as he took his sweet time handing over their child.

"Don't worry, handsome," Susan said, eyes widening when she realized her slip up. Jax chuckled at the way her eyes flitted towards his wife—who was too busy babbling nonsense at the infant in her arms to notice.

"She's right," Cassandra joined in, leaning over the bassinet in front of her. "That's the way it's supposed to be…." She reached inside, cradling the infant in her arms with tender care as she walked around, meeting Jax half way. "Momma's boy….and _Daddy's little girl."_

"Jesus, Tara," Jax breathed as he peered down at the stirring child in his arms. "She's _beautiful."_

"Let me see her," Tara asked, beckoning him towards her, one arm outstretched as she cradled her son in the other one. Jax was quick to oblige, gently placing his newborn daughter in Tara's arms—stepping back just a little to take a mental picture of just how perfect an image the scene before him presented.

"When you're ready for us to take them back to the Nursery let us know," Cassandra said, heading towards the door.

_Never, _Jax thought smiling down at one half of his beautiful family.

Tara nodded at her, eyes too busy bouncing back and forth between the twins in her arms to really acknowledge their exit.

"Congratulations," Susan said, pulling the door shut behind her.

"When I first found out I was pregnant with Jacquelyn I was angry with you," Tara admitted quietly. "I know it was irrational...it's not like I wasn't _there _when it happened...But Tommy and Nate were finally in high school….four more years and we'd be free...I love being a mother, Jax. And I love that I've been able witness what an amazing father you are…it made me fall in love with you even more….I'll never regret Jacquelyn….and looking at _Nathalie…._and _Grayson…._I know I'll never regret them either." Tara finally looked up at Jax, reached for his face—brushing her fingers through the blonde scruff lining his jaw and cheeks. "I love our family…and I love all of our children. But I can't regret not wanting any _more_. And I don't want you to either, Jax. I miss you, baby. I know it sounds really selfish but I miss _us. _These two will be out of our hair two years after Jacquelyn….we still have another five years before we can even register them for school and have the house to ourselves…..I miss being with you. I miss riding on the back of my Old man's bike….wrapping my arms around you as we zip through the highway….I'd like to get back to that before we're all old and brittle and you can't grip the clutch."

Jax smiled at her. "You always did have a problem with sharing me," he teased.

"You promised to ride me as much as your Harley," Tara bit back, grinning. "Guess what, Teller? You're not the only one that likes the feeling of cold leather and an engine vibrating between your legs."

_Oh boy._

"I miss it, babe," Tara stressed. "I'm tired of….my _cage." _Jax chuckled, brushing her hair back behind her ear. "I'm serious, Jackson…._I miss you."_

"I'm right here, babe," Jax promised. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I need you to promise me something," Tara urged. "And this is a promise you _have _to keep."

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't resent me later," Tara pleaded. "Promise me you won't—"

Jax leaned down towards, cutting her sentence short when he crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was deep and lazy all at once—infused with a passion that hadn't manifested overnight—or over days, weeks, months, not even a year or two. As his tongue danced with hers, the passion behind every stroke was something vintage—one could even call Ancient. It stemmed from an unwavering connection that had long surpassed it's teenage origins.

Pulling back, he pecked her lips one more time before pinning her with his Indigo gaze—the solemnness swirling in the shades of blue leaving no room to question the sincerity of his words.

"I will _never _resent you," Jax vowed. "You've already given me more than I ever felt I deserved. _I love you, Tara. _I need you to always remember that...Promise _me."_

Tara nodded, teardrops shimmying down from her thick, bottom lashes—streaming down her smiling face. "I love you, Jackson….and I'm sorry for not saying it before….._Happy Father's Day."_

* * *

><p><strong>Don't even ask me where this came from because I have't the slightest clue. I was making fun of my older cousin for wanting an at-home, natural water birth after she <strong>_caved_ **and got an epidural with her first child...after NINE months of berating every single one of us who recommended it saying she "wasn't doing that". I was telling her how hilarious it was going to be watching her yell and curse at her fiancee and all the nurses when it was too late to go to the hospital or get an Epi. Somehow I ended typing this first lines of this into my phone while being the dutiful cousin, accompanying her to her OB appointment...So I guess I **do **have a clue, huh? **

**LMAO.**

I have issues, folks. #AcceptThat

And leave me some feedback with your comments on what you thought, favorite parts, etc. The usual. Most of you know what makes my **muse **squeal in delight and my **inner-critic **shut f*ck up for a while.

**|REVIEW|**


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